Time is a Great Healer
by magicalprowess
Summary: When Newt Scamander is involved in a dragon-related injury, he is rushed to St. Mungo's and placed in the care of Healer Hannah Clarke.
1. Chapter 1

_**London, 1930, November**_

"Excuse me, but I seem to remember feeding you once this morning already." You arched a brow at your pet Kneazle as she nudged your hand. "I know you're just trying to butter me up, Milly, and it won't work." Milly let out an irritated meow and jumped down from the table, sulking away. "Goodbye to you, too, then." You grabbed your bag and swung it over your shoulder, heading out the door.

It was a surprisingly nice day for the middle of November you noted, weaving through the crowd and popping into the corner store near your apartment. The little bell above the door dinged, alerting the elderly shop owner.

"Good morning, my dear," he smiled, seeing you enter.

"It is _now_." You put your money on the counter as he chuckled.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to flirt with older men?" You smiled as you took the paper cup full of hot tea he offered you.

"You tell me that every time I come in, Alan, and it's never made me stop."

"Well, truth is I kind of like it." He winked at you as you laughed. "On your way to work?"

You sighed. "Yeah, I'm working a double today at the hospital." He whistled low.

"You know I have a friend with a grandson about your age - "

"Goodbye Alan," you said firmly, shaking your head and turning, hiding a smile.

"I'm just saying!" He called, and you waved at him from over your shoulder.

"See you tomorrow morning!"

You made your way down the street towards Purge and Dowse, Ltd., surprised to see a small crowd of people in brightly colored robes standing outside of the dilapidated building. You frowned, seeing their cameras and catching parts of their conversations.

"I heard he's out cold completely - "

"They're saying he won't wake up for weeks - "

"Apparently a rogue Hungarian Horntail, knocked him clean out - "

"Excuse me," you said, pushing past a particularly tall man with a camera. He looked down at you with annoyance, perking up a bit when he noticed the lime green robe sticking out of your bag.

"Are you a Healer?" He said eagerly, grabbing your arm as you tried to move by him.

"Are you a reporter?" You asked, jerking your elbow back.

"James Seawell, the _Daily Prophet."_ He stuck out his hand expectantly.

"Pleasure," you said flatly. "If you'll excuse me…"

"Now wait a minute," he said, following you as you stepped towards the building and grabbed the door handle. You stopped, turning to him. "What's your name?" You pursed your lips and he changed tactics. "You've got someone famous in there, you know. I could make it worth your while, if you let me in there to see him." You crossed your arms.

"Bribing a Mediwitch is illegal," you said, stepping up into the doorway to look at him at eye level. "Surely, you're not a criminal, Mr. Seawell?" He broke into a lazy smile, leaning into your personal space.

"I can be whatever you'd like me to be, little lady."

"In the case," you said, leaning your lips next to his ear and lowering your voice. "Be gone." You turned around quickly, opening the door and slipping inside before he had a chance to react. "Good morning," you said to a strangely stressed-looking mannequin. "Healer Clarke, reporting for my shift." The mannequin nodded slowly, and you hurried past it and into the changing rooms, making your way down the hallway and swinging open the door to changing room six.

The door opened to reveal a large lobby, all white marble and granite. You walked briskly down the corridor, making a right and nodding to a very flustered secretary who sat at a large mahogany desk.

"Oh, Miss Clarke, I'm so glad you're here," she said, shaking her head. "These reporters have been driving me batty all morning…"

You gave her a sympathetic look. "I know, they're always the worst. So we've got another injured celebrity?"

"Oh yes," she nodded. "I think he's in your department, too. Someone from the Ministry." You groaned. Anytime a famous person or government official was injured they would always assign the head of the department to keep special watch over the patient. With so many patients who needed help, you hated the idea of having to show favoritism. You sighed, grabbing your robes from out of your bag and pulling them over your shoulders.

"Just another day at St. Mungo's, right?" You headed toward the elevator and stepped in. "First floor, Creature Induced Injuries, please." The doors shut and you felt a pull in your stomach as the elevator took you up.

"First floor," the elevator announced, opening it's doors.

"Miss Clarke!" You were met by your trainee Healer, who was red-faced and out of breath.

"Hello Jane," you said, smiling brightly. "It appears there's a bit of a commotion this morning."

Jane coughed. "Just a bit… the patient is in stable condition, of course, but all the reporters… I found one hiding under one of the beds this morning!"

You laughed. "You could have called me, you know." Jane shook her head.

"You worked an 18 hour shift yesterday, you needed to sleep at least a little."

"Seems I missed all the fuss, then." You stopped abruptly as you noticed a man standing in your office. "Is that… is that the _Minister?_ "

"Oh," Jane said, following your gaze. "Yes, he's been here for an hour. He won't talk to anyone except you, since you're head Healer and all."

"Whoever has been injured must be rather important," you mused. "Do you know who it is?" Jane opened her mouth but was interrupted by the Minister catching sight of you. "Hold that thought," you said to her, making your way to your office. "Minister," you said smiling. "It's an honor - "

"Miss Clarke," he said anxiously. "I'm sure you know how serious this is."

"Actually," you said sitting, "I haven't had a chance to see any of my patients just yet this morning."

"Oh, it's terrible," he said, paling. "I've never seen so much blood."

"I've been told the patient is in stable condition, Minister." At his nauseated look you reached out and patted his arm. "I'm sure they'll pull through Mr. Fawley. We'll see to it that they do." He didn't look reassured.

"He's very important to the Ministry, Miss Clarke. I'd like for you to personally oversee his progress."

"Of course," you nodded. "In fact, I should be on my way to do my rounds, if you'll excuse me."

"Yes, yes," the Minister said, standing. "I can count on your discretion, of course." You nodded, smiling. "Brilliant. I, uh, I will owl."

"I'll let you know if his condition worsens, sir."

"Right," he said, shifting uncomfortably. You waited a moment before gesturing to the door.

"You can use the Floo network in our lobby, Minister." He looked towards the door and grimaced.

"Yes," he looked back to you and smiled weakly. "Good day, Miss Clarke." You watched him stumble out, shaking your head and sighing.

* * *

You found Jane at the front desk, drinking a cup of coffee with a shaky hand.

"Which cup is that today?" She looked up at you guiltily.

"My fifth - but that's less than usual," she said quickly, seeing your expression.

"Jane, I need you coherent enough to treat my patients," you admonished. "Not hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline." You took the coffee from her hand and smiled. "Besides," you said, "you need to leave some for the rest of us." She laughed as you drank it, tossing the empty cup into the garbage. "Alright, update me as we walk."

Jane nodded, falling into an easy stride next to you as you made your way down the corridor. "The patient is in intensive care after a dragon attack by a Hungarian Horntail."

You stopped. "A Hungarian Horntail?" Jane nodded.

"Yes, according to witness accounts the dragon was actually going for someone else and our patient saved them just in time. He suffered some deep lacerations on his abdomen and back, as well as a hit to the head that's left him unconscious. His leg and hip are also broken."

You nodded, opening the door to the room and letting your eyes adjust to the lighting and observing the man laying before you. He was bandaged around the middle and around his head, his eyes ringed black with bruises and his lips a faint shade of blue. "No burns?"

"No," Jane said quietly. "His vitals are strong, but I don't expect him gain consciousness anytime soon." You nodded, frowning.

"He _does_ look familiar," you said slowly. "Who is he?"

Jane looked at his chart. "Newton Scamander?"

"Newton Scamander," you repeated. You and Jane stood at the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. "His bandages need changing," you said finally. Jane nodded.

"Shall we now?" You bit your lip.

"No, let him rest for a bit. You should head home anyways, Jane."

"I'd argue, but I feel like I'm about to crawl into one of our beds and pass out, to be honest."

"Should have drank more coffee…"

It took a moment for Jane to realize what you said, but when she did she hit you quite fiercely on the arm with Mr. Scamander's chart.


	2. Chapter 2

"Good morning, Mr. Scamander," you said, pulling back the curtain in his room and allowing the light to pour in. You turned back to his unconscious form and touched your wand to his chest. "Your vitals look good," you said, adjusting the pillows behind his head. "The silent type, eh?" You smiled and sat beside his bed. "It's a good thing for you I like to talk, then. Do you know I finally realized where I know you from?" You reached into his bedside table and brought out a midnight blue book. " _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ I heard they're going to use it at Hogwarts next year." You set the book down, sighing. "You know, you've been here with us for two weeks, and yet you still haven't woken up once. I'm starting to think it's something I said." A knock at the door pulled you from your very one-sided conversation.

"Miss Clarke?"

"Hey Jane," you smiled, standing and pulling the blankets up to Mr. Scamander's chin. "Just trying to get Mr. Scamander to speak up."

"Oh," Jane said, giving you a smile. "I know it's last minute, but I was wondering if you'd do me a favor."

"Are you going to ask me to work a double for you?" Jane winced. " _Jane…"_

"It's just," she said, coming into the room, "Edward has planned something really romantic. And I know you don't - "

"Have a life?" You finished.

"Well, I was going to say it with a little more tact…"

"No, you weren't." You smiled, shrugging. "It's fine, I mean… I really don't have a life."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! I don't know how to repay you..."

"I like chocolate!" You called after her as she raced out of the room. You turned back to Mr. Scamander's sleeping form. "Looks like it's just you and me tonight, friend."

* * *

You finished your final rounds for the night and sighed as the last Healer left for the day, leaving you officially alone. In truth, this was your favorite time of day to work. It was always peaceful, as all your patients were asleep, and you cherished any time you got to spend alone in your hectic schedule. You stopped by Mr. Scamander's room on the way to your office to check his vitals again. Tipping your wand to his chest you hummed as it glowed white.

"Everything looks alright," you said, noting that the black and blue around his eyes had started to fade. You frowned as you noticed his breathing was a bit more shallow and irregular than normal. "I'll stay with you a bit, then, Mr. Scamander. Just to make sure you don't lapse." You settled yourself into the armchair next to his bed, getting your copy of Witch Weekly and reading out loud to him, as you were accustomed to doing.

"What would you like to hear about tonight?" You asked him, flipping a page. "It seems there's a new potion for long-lasting perfume?" You looked over at him and shook your head. "No, you're right. Who needs that?" You turned another page. "How about this? A letter from the editor; Tobias Misslethorpe reveals what witches really want." You snorted. "Like he knows, am I right?" Mr. Scamander said nothing, so you turned the page again. "Now look here," you said, holding up the magazine to him and pointing to an image of a beautiful witch. "They're saying that Flora Dooleetle has broken up with Cygnus Black already. What was that? Four months they were together?"

"Three."

You dropped the magazine to floor and stood abruptly. "Shh, Mr. Scamander, don't speak just yet." You leaned over him, pressing your wand gently against his forehead and running some diagnostic spells. You turned to the bedside table, pouring some water and bringing the glass to his lips. "Drink just a little," you said, tipping it. He did, wincing as his throat worked to swallow. "I know it hurts," you said softly. You lifted your wand to his throat, whispering. "That should bring down the swelling."

"Thank you," he croaked. He looked thoughtful and you shook your head.

"No, don't try to sit up yet. You'll only hurt yourself more." He raised a brow at you and you smiled. "I'm not a Legilimens, no, but this profession does make you a bit of a mind reader." He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. You sat on the edge of his bed and sighed. "Do you remember why you're here?"

"Dragon," he said, nodding. He frowned. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Yes," you said. "You're the lucky one who was hurt."

"It was an accident." His voice was still raspy, but you could hear his tone coming back. "She would never hurt anyone, usually."

"She?"

"The Horntail," he said, wincing.

"The dragon?" You asked incredulously, waving your wand over his throat again and numbing his pain. He nodded.

"Yes, the dragon. She was just anxious."

"I get anxious too," you said, giving him another sip of water, "but I've never nearly killed a man because of it." You put the glass back on the table and smiled. "I'll admit I've wanted to, however." Mr. Scamander said nothing to that, but the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Shocked," he said. "Dismayed. Heartbroken." You gave him a strange look and he half-smiled. "I just really thought Flora and Cygnus were in love."

You laughed loudly and smiled down at him. "Yes, it's all quite tragic." You stood and tucked the blankets around his body. "You need to rest now, Mr. Scamander."

"Newt," he said, his voice almost back to normal.

"I'm sorry?"

"Call me Newt," he said. "And you are?"

"Hannah Clarke." You looked at him for a moment. "Most people call me Miss Clarke, but I suppose you can call me Hannah."

"Hannah," he said, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight Newt," you said, moving towards the door. "I left my copy of Witch Weekly for you, if you get bored."

"Stupendous," he said, sleep coloring his voice. You shook your head and smiled, leaving him alone to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

You decided to check back on Newt early the next morning before you went home, anxious that his sudden consciousness might have had adverse effects on his overall health. You stepped into his room softly and were surprised to see him lying awake, his head turned to gaze out the window. The moonlight cast a shadow over his cheekbones, making his face look hollow.

"You're awake."

Newt turned his head towards your voice and gave you a small smile. "I don't usually sleep much."

"Even after intense trauma?" You pressed your wand to the side of his head gently and smiled. "You don't seem to have any serious damage in there." Newt hummed.

"I'm somewhat used to trauma, you see." You clicked your tongue as you propped a pillow under his head.

"I've seen the scars, yes," you said, shaking your head. Your eyes flicked down to his abdomen, still covered in bandages, the exposed skin littered with thin white scars that bloomed over his chest like veins. "Pretty shotty healing work, if you ask me."

"Well," he said guiltily, "I might have healed them myself." You pursed your lips and raised a brow at him.

"You don't say." You pressed two fingers to his hip bone and shot him an apologetic look as he hissed in pain. "Sorry, your hip doesn't seem to be mending as quickly as I'd like." You waved your wand, numbing his pain and draping the covers back over his body. "So all those scars are from your fantastic beasts?" You crossed the room to the medicine cabinet and began sifting through bottles. Newt chuckled.

"You could say that," he groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Ah, ah," you waved your finger at him and motioned for him to lay back down. "Don't push it. Here, this potion will help with your broken bones." Newt took the bottle from your hand a tipped it back, letting the liquid spill into his mouth. He grimaced. "I know it's bad," you said sympathetically. "But that's how you know it's good for you."

"My mom used to say that…"

"Wise woman." You sat down heavily in the armchair next to him and he watched you for a moment, thoughtful. You gave him a questioning look.

"Do you… could you contact someone for me?"

You blinked. "Of course. I must alert your family now that you've gained consciousness - I should have last night, I just - "

"No, no it's fine. I just… I'm not quite sure what's happened to my belongings. I had my case with me in the field and…" He swallowed, looking mildly panicked. You reached over and placed your hand over his.

"What can I do? Who should I write? Your wife, or...?"

"What?" Newt was staring at where your hand rested on his and you withdrew it quickly, thinking you must have made him uncomfortable. His eyes snapped to yours. "No, no… my brother. Theseus Scamander. He works for the Ministry, but is in Germany at the moment."

You furrowed your brow. "Theseus Scamander… the Auror?" Newt nodded. "I've met him, actually." You smiled at Newt's questioning gaze. "I think every Auror has been in here at some point or another, though not typically in my department. I think I treated him for an Occamy bite, if I remember correctly. A nasty one, too."

"It was _his fault_ ," Newt grumbled. You wisely chose to say nothing, hiding your smile as you stood.

"I'll write him directly and send the letter out before I head home."

"Home?" Newt gave you a strange look. You smiled.

"Contrary to popular belief I don't live here," you said, rolling your shoulders and wincing at the pain that shot through them. "Besides I have to feed and cuddle my Kneazle. I'm sure she's upset I haven't been home for her to sleep on lately."

Newt smiled. "I have a Kneazle, too. Her name is Hoppy."

You grinned. "Nice name." He shrugged a shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow, in the morning," you said, heading to the door. "My trainee Jane will take care of you in my absence." Newt nodded, clenching his jaw. "Oh," you stopped before leaving the room. "What kind of tea do you like?"

"English Breakfast," he said quickly, furrowing his brow. "Why?"

"No reason."

* * *

"Morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning," you said, smiling up at Alan.

"Off to work another double?"

"You know it." Alan chuckled as you put your money on the counter. "Two teas today, please." He raised a brow at you.

"Must be serious, if you're buying him tea." You shot him a look.

"A serious _injury_ , more like. A patient," you clarified at his amused glance. He grunted.

"I still have that friend with the grandson - "

" _Goodbye Alan."_

* * *

The walk to work was peaceful and you silently vowed to get out of St. Mungo's more to feel the sunshine on your skin. Those fluorescent lights were making you pale…

"Morning, Miss Clarke." You smiled and nodded at the receptionist, heading to the elevator. "There's a real handsome man who came through here and went to your floor. A Mr. Scamander?"

"Ah, must be here to visit his brother," you said, setting your tea cups on the counter and pulling your robes out of your bag, shrugging into them.

"He's a real dream…" You laughed, turning from her. "Oh, have a good shift, Miss Clarke!"

"Thanks," you said, stepping onto the elevator. You hummed as it took you up, waving to Jane as the doors opened. She hid a cup of coffee behind her back and smiled.

"Oh, hello."

" _Jane,"_ you warned.

"It's my first cup, honest." Her eyes flicked down to the paper cups in your hands. "You brought me something?" You shook your head and walked towards your office to drop off your bag.

"It's tea, you wouldn't like it." She crinkled her nose. "So," you asked her, turning to her and smiling. "How's Edward?" Jane instantly reddened.

"Oh, _Hannah_ ," she breathed, sticking her hand out in front of you. You gasped at the ring you saw on her left hand.

" _Jane!"_ Your face split into a smile and you yanked her into a hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I keep staring at it," she said into your hair. "I keep thinking I'm hallucinating and it's not real." You pulled back and laughed.

"You're going to be a gorgeous bride." Jane opened her mouth to respond but you were both distracted by a commotion down the hall, coming from Newt's room.

"Oh," Jane said, smiling wryly at you. "That Mr. Scamander is a little odd, don't you think?" You hummed, heading out of your office, down the hall, and into the room - eyes widening at the sight before you.

" _What_ is going on here!?"

The two Scamanders froze at your voice, and you almost laughed at how comical they looked. Newt was struggling to get out of bed, his good leg swung over the side and his arm straining to push himself up. Theseus was hovered above him, hand on Newt's shoulder in an effort to push him back down.

"No," you said firmly. "Absolutely _not."_ You strode over to the bed, placing the cups of tea onto the bedside table before turning on them. You motioned for Theseus to step back. "Lay down."

"Hannah," Newt pleaded, "you don't understand - "

" _DOWN,"_ you repeated, waving your wand and watching as his body fell back to the bed gently and went stiff. You turned to Theseus. "Mr. Scamander, would _you_ like to explain to me why your severely injured brother is trying to get himself _more_ hurt?"

"Mmmpf mmm," Newt mumbled from the bed, unable to move his jaw. You shushed him.

Theseus' eyes flicked from his brother to you, his face relaxing into an amused grin. "That's a useful spell." You forced yourself not to smile.

"Newt needs to _rest_ ," you said. " _Yes,_ " you turned at Newt's strangled mumbles and shot him a look, "you do." He glared at you. "Do you promise not to move?"

"Mmphf." You waved your wand over him and he opened his mouth, stretching his jaw.

"Now," you said, turning back to Theseus. "Explain."

Theseus opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it, and sighed. "I was just explaining to my brother that his case and his creatures are perfectly safe in the hands of his colleagues at the Beast Division."

"And _I_ was explaining to my brother that those _colleagues_ don't know the difference between a Hippogriff and a Nundu."

"Is there one?" Theseus asked with a smile. Newt made a move to get up.

"Ah, ah!" You pointed your wand at Newt's chest. "If I have to kill you to keep you from killing yourself, I will." Newt smiled despite himself.

"They have your book, Newton," Theseus sighed. "They're following your care instructions to a T. I've been checking on the creatures myself."

"That's not very reassuring," Newt said, but it was without malace.

"Are we all made up now?" You asked, hand on your hip. Theseus and Newt looked at you blankly. "Great." You tipped your wand to Newt's head, running your usual diagnostics.

"My hip hurts," Newt offered. You shot him a look but waved your wand to numb his pain anyway.

"Thank you for taking care of Newton," Theseus said, smiling. "I can't imagine how much of a pain he's been."

"He was fine before you came to visit," you said, offering him a smile. You turned to the medicine cabinet to find Newt's daily potions.

"Ah, I apologize. Let me make it up to you…" You turned, raising a brow at him. "Dinner tonight?"

" _Theseus,"_ Newt admonished, mortified.

"No, thank you," you said primly. "I read enough Witch Weekly to know you're bad news, Mr. Scamander." Theseus looked stricken.

"Witch Weekly?"

"Yes," Newt said, perking up significantly. "Did you know that Flora Dooleetle has broken up with Cygnus Black already?"

"What?"

You laughed, handing Newt his potions. He tipped them back into his throat and blanched. "Ah, I brought you something to wash that down." You reached over and handed him the cup of tea. "English breakfast."

Newt's face broke into a smile. "Thank you."

"You know," you said, standing and looking at Theseus. "You asked me to dinner last time you were here, too."

"Did I?" He said, not seeming surprised. "Well maybe I can next time I visit as well." He turned to his brother. "Newton, it's been an experience, as always. I am glad you're faring better." He walked to the bed and put a hand on Newt's shoulder, smiling. The brothers exchanged a warm look of affection, and you felt strange sharing in this intimate moment. "I will try to visit again, soon." Newt nodded as Theseus turned and walked to the door. "Take care," he said, giving you a wink. You chuckled and shook your head as he strolled out.

"Sorry about him," Newt said, giving you a half smile. You hummed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he said, grimacing. You raised a brow and he sighed. "My leg might hurt a bit, now that you mention it."

"Tell me when it hurts," you said, using your fingers to gently apply pressure to his knee and shin. You looked up at him, watching as he bit his lip and colored. "Painful?"

"No," he said quickly, not meeting your gaze.

"The potions are helping," you said, standing. "The healing process is slow, but sure. You'll need a bit of physical therapy when you're well enough to walk again." Newt was looking out the window. "Can I get you anything?" When he didn't answer, you sighed. "I'll let you rest, then."

"Have you read my book?"

You smiled. "I'd like to, but I don't get a lot of time to read at this job." Newt nodded.

"I'll read it to you, then." You opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you. "I don't sleep much, you see... when you work late, come visit me after everyone else is asleep. I'll be awake. You can help me look for errors - I'm working on a new edition."

You looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Alright." Newt smiled at you, a real genuine smile, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Now, get some rest." But his eyes were already closed, his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathed. "Sleep well, Newt," you whispered, flicking out the lights in his room.


End file.
